


cop out

by tagteamme



Series: has anyone checked the mail (prompts) [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 7 minutes in heaven, Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Romance, This is so self indulgent I'm sorry, everyone's of age, pre-kerberos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 19:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12847782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tagteamme/pseuds/tagteamme
Summary: “Yo! Spin!”Keith winces at how loud Matt calls it out, but stays put as the black hand spins. He waits for thetk tk tkto stop so he can get up and walk Shiro back then go back to his room and contemplate his stupid crush and jerk—“Nice,” Matt says and Keith thinks he feels Shiro go a little rigid beside him.“That’s not pointing at me,” Keith says but Matt’s already shoving him off the sofa.





	cop out

**Author's Note:**

> as seen on tumblr from a prompt from [otasucc](http://otasucc.tumblr.com): "hi i have one (1) request prekerb sheith seven minutes in heaven this trope is my guilty pleasure pls and thanks xxx"
> 
> thanks for providing me with a trope i didn't know i needed till you came into my ask

“ID please,” Matt sticks his hand out, and Keith snorts as he shoves past him and into the house. “Hey! I’m serious.” **  
**

He’s not, because he’s the reason Keith’s shown up to this godforsaken house party in the first place. Father and Mother Holt have gone on vacation this weekend, and the house is close enough to the Galaxy Garrison that Matt’s trying his hardest to up his cool points by inviting the entire student population over. Matt told Keith attendance was mandatory, otherwise he would pick on Keith for the next ten general physics tutorials.

“Thanks for the invite,” Keith says, looking around. He knows a lot of the crowd here, but there are only two people he really talks to outside of the Garrison, and one of them is trying to herd him down the hall. Keith can’t catch a sight of the other one, no matter how much he tries to subtly scan the crowd for someone tall and familiar.

“Looking for someone?” Matt says a little too loudly, and claps Keith’s back a little too hard.

“I’m hungry,” Keith says and Matt laughs like Keith’s made a joke. Matt laughs at a lot of things though, most of the time when he shouldn’t, so Keith lets it slide.

Keith eventually makes it to the kitchen and loses Matt along the way. In the process, a girl who he lent a pencil to at the beginning of the year presses a bottle of Corona into his hands. He also manages unearth a box of pizza pockets from the freezer. Three minutes later, Keith has all he needs to survive the party for the mandatory twenty minutes before he sneaks out and heads back home.

He’s in the middle of shoving the third out of four pizza pockets into his mouth, when someone reaches for the last one.

“Hey,” he barks, grabbing the thief’s wrist. “Mine.”

“My bad,” The someone twists his hand out of Keith’s grasp, giving Keith an all too familiar crooked grin and a wink.

Keith is completely used to his brain electrocuting itself every time he has to look at one Takashi Shirogane for more than ten seconds at a time, but that’s at the Garrison when they’re in uniform, or at the gym where Shiro likes to put Keith in his place regularly, or in the library, where Shiro sacrifices his free time to make sure Keith’s acing his classes or—

Essentially, Keith is used to his brain fritzing out in Shiro’s presence, except for when he’s faced with something even slightly new. He’s seen Shiro in this same white t-shirt before, but it hung loose on him last time, and Shiro normally tucks his dog tags in, doesn’t leave them hanging out and oh _god_ Keith’s only been here for a total of eight minutes.

“Oh, it’s you,” Keith says as his brain keeps expositing. “Nah, you can have some.”

“I’m honoured,” Shiro says, picking up the pizza pocket and taking a bite. “Hey, give me a sip.”

Keith passes his bottle to Shiro, who takes a big gulp of his beer before dumping it down the sink.

“Dude,” Keith whines as Shiro places the empty bottle neatly beside the sink. Keith figures it’s less because Keith’s not twenty one yet, and more because earlier on in the day Keith snarked Shiro in the hearing vicinity of Iverson.

“Not for another two and a half years,” Shiro scolds and Keith flips him off. Shiro pinches the tip of Keith’s middle finger and starts bending it back. “Understood, cadet?”

“You’re so fucking lame,” Keith bites through both the pain and the need to tell Shiro to never refer to him as anything else ever again.

Shiro lets Keith go with a laugh, and Keith shoves him back for good measure. Shiro pretends it hurts a lot more than it actually does, and Keith stalks away in a fake angry huff. He looks over to glare at Shiro, but someone else has already commandeered his attention. Keith deflates a little further when he realizes he’s left his half eaten pizza pocket on the counter, but decides to leave it.

 

* * *

 

Keith doesn’t go home immediately. He really wishes he had though.

After he left the kitchen, Keith had run into a group of people from one of his physical conditioning classes with whom he got along with fairly well with. His first mistake was that he hung out with them for forty minutes, having a fairly decent time till the conversation had died down and they all drifted away to different parts of the house. Keith had decided to locate Matt and tell him that he was going home, and that Matt couldn’t ask Keith to do anything for a week. That was his second mistake.

If Keith’s being honest with himself, he actually wanted to find Shiro first so he could hang out with him, but Shiro was lost in the crowd and Keith’s not the biggest fan of looking desperate.

Keith had shifted through groups of people, knocked on a couple of doors, and had been ready to just dip without a word when he heard a familiar braying laugh from downstairs. It was followed by an even more familiar chuckle, and Keith’s third mistake of the night was to let his feet automatically take him to the source of the sound.

Now, Keith’s watching as one drunk person stumbles out of the cold storage room and another person stumbles in.

“I don’t get it,” he says, and Shiro opens his mouth to explain the rules for the fourth time. “Shut up, no, I get it. I don’t get why it’s fun though.”

“What’s not fun about making out with people?” Matt pipes up from the other side of Keith. Keith and Shiro are squished onto a love seat, with Matt sprawled half on the arm and half on the top of the seat.

“Being the person waiting outside,” Keith supplies. There’s a circle of people around a twister board, chattering while the two people in the cold storage kiss or talk or whatever people do when they’re trapped in a closet for seven minutes. “I didn’t know people still played this.”

“It would have been Twister,” Matt replies, flicking the back of Keith’s head. “But Katie used the mat as a tarp for a project and set it on fire.”

“Fantastic,” Keith says dryly, as a smirking girl steps out of the closet. “I’m going to leave now.”

“Me too,” Shiro says, and Keith immediately thinks to ask Shiro if he wants to go back to the Garrison together.

“Nah,” Matt says, planting a hand on each of their shoulders and pulling them back down. He slides off a little from where he’s sprawled, and is wedged horizontally in between the two of them and the cushions. “Yo! Spin!”

Keith winces at how loud Matt calls it out, but stays put as the black hand spins. They’ve been playing one in, one out, so whoever lands this turn has to replace the person who landed it the one before the last turn. Matt claims it’s so that everyone can get a variety of experiences, and because everyone in this room is a dumbass, they have accepted it as the rules of the game.

He waits for the _tk tk tk_ to stop so he can get up and walk Shiro back then go back to his room and contemplate his stupid crush and jerk—

“Nice,” Matt says and Keith thinks he feels Shiro go a little rigid beside him.

“That’s not pointing at me,” Keith says but Matt’s already shoving him off the sofa.

 

* * *

 

“I’m not kissing you,” is the first thing the guy waiting inside the storage says to Keith.

Keith doesn’t really care about the rejection, just cares about the weird look Shiro had on his face when Matt put his foot to Keith’s ass and pushed him into the closet. Keith wants to think about it, but feels like he’ll do it too loudly. He’s not sure if he wants to expose himself like that in front of this stranger.

“Cool,” Keith says, digging his hands into his pockets.

“I didn’t kiss the last person either,” Keith thinks the boy is trying to sound comforting, but he genuinely doesn’t care. “I gave her the answer key to our next quiz though.”

Wait.

“What?” Keith asks, and the other guy pulls out his phone.

Turns out they’re in the same class, one that has notoriously difficult tests that probably are less of an indicator of intelligence and more of a way for the teacher to posture. This guy, who now Keith feels marginally bad for not remembering, has somehow acquired all five variations of their upcoming quiz.

Keith’s not one to cheat, ever at all. But the last test he got back, he nearly failed because of the fact that his pen ink had started to fade and the teacher didn’t like faint, yet clearly visible lines. The amount of time he had spent appealing the mark was too large for him to never get back.

The guy is not going to send it to Keith, but Keith’s allowed to look at it, take notes, and commit as much of it to memory as possible.

Now he knows why the last girl who left the closet looked so satisfied.

 

* * *

 

Matt knocks on the door for the tenth time.

“One more minute,” Keith calls out because he’s trying to skim through the last variation.

The door-knob rattles and turns. Matt peeps his head in.

“I’m obligated to tell you under threat of death - ok, out of respect to the rules, _geez_ \-  that you’re approaching the fifteen minute mark and—oh, you’re not making out?”

Matt uses this as a cue to invite himself into the cold storage, and Keith immediately shoves the phone back into the other guys hand, who pockets it immediately. “Show me what you were doing, nerds.”

“Playing a game,” Keith lies and Matt raises an eyebrow.

“So you weren’t making out?” He asks and Keith shakes his head while the other guy goes “Ew, no.”

Matt taps a finger to his lips before reaching forward and ruffling Keith’s hair.

“Lick your lips,” Matt says and Keith frowns but automatically follows. “Great. You too.”

They both give Matt a confused look, and he reaches forward and pinches both their mouths shut. Hard.

Keith yelps, but the other guy straight up squeals. Matt hums and holds them in place while they flail, letting them go after an excruciating fifteen seconds have passed.

“Perfect,” he says and before anything else comes out of his mouth, the door-knob twists again and the door swings open.

“Hey,” Shiro’s got a smile on that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Got stuck in here?”

“Had to pull them apart,” Matt says sweetly, and barely lets out a sound when Keith kicks him in the shin.

“Who’s next?” asks Other Guy.

“Me,” Shiro says firmly, and Keith freezes. He’s glad this room only has a dim, half-watt lightbulb because otherwise everyone would immediately see the panic written across his face.

“Amazing,” Matt says, and turns to the other guy. “Scram.”

Other Guy high-tails it out, side stepping Shiro while throwing a wide eyed look back at Keith. Maybe Keith’s a little more visible than he previously thought.

“I’ll see myself out,” Matt says, and squeezes through between the door and Shiro. Shiro nods at him before closing the door behind him.

Keith’s not quite sure what he had expected, really.

It’s quite possible that he expected to have Shiro asking him if he has an interest in the other guy, or what Keith had for lunch, or if Keith saw Montgomery’s giant forehead zit, or if Keith used his study guide for his last time, and did it help?

He’s not expecting to get crowded against the shelves, Shiro’s hands on his shoulders, guiding him back. He hits the wooden planks with a soft thud, and feels them dig into his back.

“Hello,” he says, having to now tilt his head to look up at Shiro in the low light.

“Hi,” Shiro says, leaning in. “How are you?”

“Pretty okay,” Keith says, forcing himself not to give an awkward grin. Apparently it’s scarier than him blank-facing someone. “Decent evening so far.”

“Yeah?” There’s a small edge to Shiro’s voice, and Keith has a hard time remaining focused. “Let me try and make it better?”

Before Keith can process his mouth moving, he blurts out a “Yeah.”

The signs in the situation are clearly only pointing one way, but Keith’s heart still threatens to leap out of his chest once Shiro kisses Keith.

There are about fifty different air horns blaring in Keith’s head that only intensify once Shiro presses their bodies closer together. Keith feels the pressure on his mouth lighten and almost ease off completely before he realizes that kissing back is a thing.

In a panic, he grabs Shiro by the dog tags and pulls him closer.

He feels a hand around his ribcage, feels it skim down and rest on his hip before squeezing. He’s running out of air, so he gasps a little into Shiro’s mouth and the kiss kicks up a notch. Keith can’t believe this is his life, and clings on to Shiro. If this is really just a fever dream or an induced hallucination, Keith is going to milk it for all that he can.

“Woah,” Keith says, a little dizzy as they break apart for air. “Woah.”

“I, uh-“ Shiro starts and stops. Shiro only looks at Keith’s mouth, and Keith doesn’t know if he wants to gain access to what Shiro is thinking right at this moment, or if he wants Shiro to continue putting both his lips and his hands on him. Only one of these options is realistic; Keith cannot believe he exists in a world where it’s the latter.

“I wonder how much time we have left,” Keith says faintly, and Shiro shakes his head. “Whoever gets you next is gonna be lucky, huh?”

“What?” Shiro frowns, but before he can say anything else, Keith’s leaning up to kiss him. Now that kissing Shiro has been introduced into his library, Keith feels like he’s moving on autopilot and the yelling in his head at finally getting to first base with his crush has dulled down by a fraction.

He can feel a moment’s hesitation before Shiro’s hands travel down and grab his thighs, hiking him up against the shelves. The soup cans rattle with the force, and the planks press hard lines against Keith’s back as he automatically wraps his legs around Shiro’s waist. In the distance, he can hear a muffled “ _ewwwww_ ” from Matt on the other side of the door, but Shiro quickly occupies him enough for him to not care about it.

 

* * *

 

It takes a full twenty minutes for Matt to meekly knock on the door.

“Guys, uh,” Matt says tentatively. “No one’s playing anymore. Game’s over so uh. Any time you feel like it, come out.”

For the past ten minutes, Keith and Shiro have been sitting on the floor, arguing whether paintballing or sneaking out on Keith’s hoverbike will make for a better official First Date. They stopped making out partly due to the fact that Keith does not _actually_  want to get it on in Matt Holt’s cold storage, and partly due to the fact that Shiro calmed down considerably once learning that Keith and Other Guy were just talking about a vague school topic. 

Because Matt deserves to be fucked with, Keith just bangs the shelf with his fist a couple of times before he can practically hear the exasperation in Matt’s receding footsteps.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi/request stuff on my tumblr!! [@phaltu](http://phaltu.tumblr.com)


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